


Outside It Stops Raining

by romanticalgirl



Series: I Must Be Lonely [8]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 04:44:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4208388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And it all comes around.</p>
<p>(last in the series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outside It Stops Raining

Ian flinches as something flies through the air and lands in his cereal bowl. “What the fuck?”

“Shit.” Mickey snorts a laugh. “Oh, shit.” 

“What the fuck, Mickey? What are you throwing in my fucking breakfast?” Ian’s tired and grumpy because he got home after Mickey and Mickey was apparently _asleep_ when he got in, so he had to sleep in his own bed. Alone. And it sucked. He digs his spoon into the bowl, glaring at Mickey the whole time. It clicks something hard and Ian reaches in to fish it out. “I can’t believe this. This is the last of the fucking milk, asshole. And now it’s...” Ian stops.

Mickey raises an eyebrow. “It’s?”

“It’s a key.” Ian stares at it for a long moment and then looks up at Mickey. He’s blushing, his face red and he’s trying hard not to look at Ian. “It’s a key to...here?”

“What other fucking place would I give you the key to? The strip club?” Mickey rolls his eyes. “You practically fucking live here anyway. This way I don’t always have to get up and open the door for your sorry ass.”

“You got me a key?”

“Yeah. I got you a key.” Mickey shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Unless you don’t want it. I mean, you don’t have to take it.”

He’s almost pouting and Ian stands up, dropping the key on the table. Mickey’s eyes widen and he stares at Ian in confusion until Ian wraps his arms around him. He kisses Mickey’s lower lip, since it’s protruding slightly and then turns it into a full kiss, deepening it and tangling his hand in Mickey’s hair.

“Ugh. Shit.” Mickey shoves him away. “You got fucking _milk_ in my hair.”

“You gave me a key.”

“And that’s my reward? Fuck, Gallagher.”

Ian grabs him and pulls him close again, shutting him up with another kiss. Ian’s whole body feels light, and there’s something inside him that radiates with the knowledge that Mickey seems to be able to read his mind. “Missed you last night,” Ian murmurs against Mickey’s mouth.

“Yeah, well, if you’d get your ass home in time, neither of us would have had to sleep alone.”

“I got stuck talking to a regular.”

Mickey blows out a huff of air. “Fucking regulars. Regular whats, by the way? Dudes who stick money down your shorts? Dudes who pay for private dances?”

“Guys who buy me drinks and talk to me. Dance with me sometimes.” Ian shrugs. “I guess private dances for some of them. Mostly they’re just kind of friends. Friendly.”

“I’d be friendly too if you were grinding down on my dick.” Mickey’s voice doesn’t have any heat in it, so Ian smiles. “What the fuck are you grinning for?”

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”

“Cute? Cute? I’m never fucking cute, asshole.” His eyes close slightly as Ian presses closer, sliding his leg between both of Mickey’s.

“You’re always cute. Cute little Mickey.”

“You’re going to get my knee in your balls.”

Ian rubs his thigh against Mickey’s balls, rubbing his dick against Mickey’s thigh. “You’d only be hurting yourself if you did that. I mean, you get just as much enjoyment from my balls as I do. Maybe more.”

“You’re such a shit,” Mickey murmurs as Ian keeps rubbing. Ian bends his head and licks Mickey’s jaw then nips at it. “Hate you so much.”

“Mm.” Ian hums against Mickey’s throat, planting wet, warm kisses along his neck. Mickey tastes like soap and some fruit thing from his hair gel. Ian slides one hand down to cup Mickey’s cock. “Can tell.”

Mickey lets out a shuddering breath. “Ian.”

“Didn’t get to sleep with you last night.” Ian kisses just above the collar of Mickey’s t-shirt. “Nothing and no one to cuddle up with. All by my lonesome.”

“Me too. Was gonna give you the key and everything, but you didn’t get home until...five?”

“Yeah.” Ian pulls at the collar and presses another kiss on the newly bared skin. “You didn’t wait up for me.”

“I’d been up since five the day before. Oh god.” Mickey’s head falls back as Ian sinks his teeth in. “H-had to jerk off since you weren’t there.”

“’m I your sex slave?”

Mickey tries for another laugh but it dissolves into a groan as Ian gives up on his collar and reaches for the hem of Mickey’s shirt instead, tugging it up and off easily. “Can’t afford a sex slave.”

“I’m cheap.” Ian laughs and kisses Mickey’s shoulder, then works his way down Mickey’s body as he sinks to his knees. “And be careful how you respond to that.” He nuzzles the dark hair just beneath Mickey’s navel, licking a path through it from the waistband of his jeans up so he can circle the indentation, making Mickey’s breath hitch as he tries not to react to Ian tickling him. “Okay?”

“A-asshole.”

Ian flicks Mickey’s navel with his tongue, fighting not to smile as Mickey tries to wriggle away from him. Ian holds his hips firmly so he can’t, nipping along the edge and then sucking wet circles onto Mickey’s stomach. Mickey moans softly and grabs Ian’s shoulders, but Ian can’t tell if he’s trying to push him away or if he’s holding him in place. 

Ian loves the deceptive softness of Mickey’s body. He looks like he’s in shape, but he doesn’t have the same toned leanness Ian has. Everything is underneath, hidden. But Ian’s felt Mickey’s strength and Ian thinks maybe Mickey’s stronger. But his stomach has a give to it that Ian likes to bite and suck on. Mickey’s nails dig into Ian’s shoulders, and his cock is tenting his sweat pants, the head of it rubbing just beneath Ian’s chin. 

“C’mon, Ian. Please.”

Ian bites Mickey’s stomach hard then pulls back, making sure Mickey’s watching as he licks his lips, leaving them parted, his tongue resting on the bottom one. He teases his fingers along the waistband of Mickey’s sweats, watching the goosebumps rise on Mickey’s skin. He finally hooks his fingers beneath the fabric and eases it carefully over Mickey’s hard on. 

Ian loves Mickey’s dick as much as he loves the rest of him. Loves the slight curve of it, the way the head grazes Mickey’s skin when he’s hard. He loves the blue lines of the veins beneath the flushed skin, loves the drop of pre-come that clings to the slit. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, Mick.”

“Jesus,” Mickey groans, his head falling back. “Just suck my dick.”

“Suck it?” Ian leans in and runs his tongue from Mickey’s balls to the tip, taking the pre-come on his tongue. Mickey’s watching him again, chest rising and falling with his rapid breath. “Just get it over with right away?”

“Ian.” It’s a flat out, frustrated plea, but there’s no way Ian’s not going to take his time. He _missed_ Mickey last night. Missed his warmth and the feel of him and his snuffly little breaths against Ian’s arm. And Mickey gave him a key. A fucking key. 

“Fuck. Self restraint can fuck itself.” Ian takes Mickey deep, eyes up so he can watch Mickey watch him. Mickey’s whole body moves as he pants and his eyes focus on his dick disappearing into Ian’s mouth. Ian moans around him, the vibration making Mickey shudder.

“Jesus, your mouth,” he gasps. Ian relaxes his grip on Mickey’s hips and then Mickey is moving, thrusting into Ian’s mouth. Ian curves his hands around to grab Mickey’s ass, squeezing it and rubbing it as Mickey fucks his mouth, as Ian sucks hard and tight. “Fuck, Ian. Fuck.” 

Mickey grabs onto the kitchen counter and Ian moans at the loss of his touch, but it changes to a different kind of moan as Mickey braces himself, fucking Ian’s mouth harder. Ian squeezes Mickey’s ass hard, his fingers grazing between the cheeks, teasing at the crack. Mickey’s breath hitches, letting Ian know he’s close. Ian moves a finger deeper, brushing Mickey’s hole and then scratching his nail across it lightly. Mickey grunts roughly and his hips stutter, one hand reaching out to grab the back of Ian’s head as he fucks his orgasm into Ian’s mouth.

Ian pulls back when Mickey slumps to the counter. He licks his lips, tip checking the corners to make sure he gets all of it. Mickey’s breathing is as unsteady as Ian’s, but he manages a smile that borders on a smirk. “S-so...you don’t want the key then?”

“Show you how much I want it.” Ian gets to his feet and grabs Mickey, turning him to face the counter. He presses Mickey’s hands back to the surface and sinks down again, opening Mickey up. His tongue presses against Mickey’s hole, inside it, and Ian can’t even call it foreplay or prepping. It’s simply getting Mickey wet and slick enough that he can push inside. His hands grab at Mickey’s thighs, bruising the pale skin as he buries his face in Mickey’s ass – nose and mouth and tongue. Surrounded by him.

Mickey’s shaking, legs quivering, knees jerking occasionally as he tries to keep his balance. He leans forward on the counter and spreads his legs wider for Ian. Ian works two fingers in with his tongue and the sounds falling from Mickey’s mouth have Ian’s cock leaking. 

Ian twists his fingers and frees his tongue, sinking his teeth into Mickey’s ass before standing. He eases his fingers out and grabs his dick, rubbing Mickey’s hole with his pre-come before pushing inside him. Mickey gasps again and Ian puts his hands over Mickey’s on the counter, holding him there as he pounds into him. 

It’s frantic and desperate and Ian threads his fingers through Mickey’s against the laminate. He breathes hotly against Mickey’s sweaty neck, licking and sucking at the damp skin. It’s salt and heat and Mickey and it’s all enough to drive Ian over the edge. He thrusts deep a couple of times and then he pushes in as deep as he can, hips and hands pinning Mickey.

Mickey’s whole body shakes and he frees his hands from Ian’s, putting his forearms down on the counter and resting his head against them. He’s breathing roughly and Ian’s inhales and exhales match Mickey’s. “Thank you.”

“F’ what?” Mickey pants.

“You gave me a key.”

“Mm. Just don’t fuck with my books.”

**

Mickey isn’t sure if he should take his time or hurry home. In the end two creeps decide for him and he has to walk all of the girls out to their cars. And convince the creeps that they needed to be elsewhere. Possibly the ER. Luckily they were both too drunk to do damage, though one of them did get in a lucky shot.

It’s easy to ignore the pain given that all he’s felt all day is Ian. 

He gets off at his stop and starts home, grabbing a 12 pack of beers at the shop around the corner from his place. Their place? Fuck. Mickey has no idea what Ian having a key makes them. He’s completely sure that Ian will tell him. Or tease him until he figures it out. Anyone else in the universe would get beat down for that shit, but apparently Mickey is completely whipped when it comes to Ian. Completely, utterly, disgustingly, happily whipped.

He jogs up the stairs because that makes him feel Ian even more, makes him ache in all the right ways. He stops outside Ian’s door and listens, wondering if he’d be able to hear him in there. Given that half the time Ian sounds like a wounded baby giraffe stumbling around, Mickey probably would. It’s silent though, but so is Mickey’s place. 

Fuck. Why is this so fucking complicated?

Mickey digs his key out of his pocket and unlocks his door. The lights are out and the whole place is quiet. Mickey takes the beer into the kitchen and puts it in the fridges after getting one out and opening it. He is not going to call out for Ian. He is not that much of a pathetic loser.

He’ll just go look for him. Only that’s not what he’s doing. His apartment is small. And it’s _his_ apartment and he just got home from work, and he’s going to go in his room and undress and sit in his bed and drink a beer. That has nothing to do with Ian. It’s what he does. 

He also sighs in relief when he walks into the bedroom and Ian is face down on the bed, legs and arms splayed. He looks like he fell on the bed and hasn’t moved since. Mickey stands there and looks at him, sipping his beer all the while. He sometimes forgets how gorgeous Ian in when Ian’s busy being Ian. Ridiculous and smart ass and goofy are the adjectives Mickey thinks of when he thinks of Ian, but it hits him low in the gut when he remembers that Ian’s hot, sculpted, muscled, powerful body is in his bed. In his life. 

Loves him.

Mickey sits on the edge of the bed and runs fingers damp from the beer can down the back of Ian’s thigh. Ian shivers and murmurs and buries his face further in the comforter. Mickey grins and leans in, kissing the curve of Ian’s bare ass. Ian’s hand reaches back, trying to swat at Mickey.

“Sleepy?” Ian manages to flip Mickey off and Mickey laughs. “Not that sleepy.” Mickey kisses the small of Ian’s back. “Your late night of regulars catching up to you?”

Ian mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like fuck off and Mickey takes another drink of his beer then sets it on the night stand. He stretches out next to Ian, trailing his fingers up and down Ian’s spine. Ian squirms a little. Mickey kisses the back of Ian's arm. “You want to share the bed?”

Ian grumbles, but he pulls his arm in against his side and moves his feet together. Mickey settles down more comfortably and reaches out, stroking Ian’s hair. Ian tilts his head to the side so Mickey can bury his fingers in the short strands, and Mickey does, scratching lightly at Ian’s scalp. 

“It’s nice. Coming home to you.”

“Naked.”

“Well, yes. It’s definitely nice to come home and find you naked.”

“You.” 

“Oh.” Mickey kisses Ian’s shoulder and climbs off the bed, stripping down. Ian’s managed to kick the covers all down to the end of the bed, and he’s on his side. He’s looking at Mickey through half-closed eyes, his lashes like shadows. “Better?”

“C’mere.”

Mickey gets back on the bed, sitting up against the pillows, leaning back against the headboard. Ian looks at him then yawns before he scoots closer, resting his head on Mickey’s thigh. Mickey picks up his beer and takes a drink, his free hand buried back in Ian’s hair. “Go back to sleep.”

Ian burrows against him, pressing a light kiss to Mickey’s thigh. “’ve you.”

“Love you too.”

**

“Are you still fucking my brother?” Ian asks Mandy as they walk along the pathways outside the school. 

“We’re just totally dispensing with pleasantries then?”

“I was pleasant.” Ian pushes his lower lip out in a pout. “I’d happily tell you whether or not I’m still fucking your brother.”

“That is shit I _definitely_ don’t need to hear.” She shrugs and doesn’t look at him. “I don’t know. He kind of disappeared on me. Probably fucking someone else.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Ian knows it’s probably not something Mandy wants to hear, but he also knows he has to say it. “He’s an asshole.”

“I know. He’s also a really good lay.”

“Okay. Too much. Too much! I’m sorry I said anything about Mickey.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “I will never ever tell you how he sounds when I’m sucking him off or when I’m fucking him or, you know, when I’m...”

“If you say one more word, I swear to god I will cut your tongue out of your mouth and beat you to death with it.” She raises an eyebrow and jabs him hard with her finger. “Mickey is a sexless creature. A eunuch.”

“Um...no. Not even close.”

“I can’t hear you over the sound of my vomiting.” She makes a show of gagging and Ian laughs. “Don’t think I’m not serious.”

“You’re not serious about Lip, are you?”

“No. We’re just having fun. Nobody thinks it’s anything more than fucking.”

Ian sighs. “Yeah, that’s how it always starts. He’s like ivy. Gets you all wrapped up in his tendrils and then chokes you to death.”

“Wow. That’s quite a description.”

“I’ve seen it before. A lot.” He shrugs and nods toward the coffee shop. “You want something?”

“Yeah. My treat. So long as you don’t mention Mickey and sex in the same sentence ever again.” She points at him and tries to make a threatening face, but she laughs when she looks at Ian and sees his pout. “I don’t know which of us is more in your thrall.”

“Ooh. Thrall. I like that.” Ian leads the way into the shop, holding the door for her. They order and settle at a table in the back, sharing a scone between them. “So, did Mickey tell you he gave me a key to his place?”

Mandy chokes on the bite she’s just taken. Ian reaches over and smacks her on the back and she slaps his hand away. “I’m fine.”

“You didn’t seem fine.”

“That’s because you just said something that is pretty much the sign of the apocalypse.” She leans back in her seat and takes hold of her straw, making it squeak against the lid as she moves it up and down. “He gave you a key. To his apartment.”

“Yeah. That’s what I said. I mean, we’ve pretty much been at his place or mine together all the time lately anyway.” He frowns. “What do you mean a sign of the apocalypse?”

“You remember how I told you that he doesn’t date? He fucks guys occasionally? I mean, besides you. He seems to be dating you. But he hasn’t...he’s never done this. Ever. He didn’t even give the whore dad made him marry a key. Not that we really locked our doors. Nobody would have been stupid enough to come into our house uninvited. You’re _sure_ he gave you a key?”

“Yeah. I was there.”

“And it, like, works and everything?”

“Yes.”

She frowns even more. “Huh.”

“You make it sound like it’s something bad.”

“It’s something that I didn’t think was possible. You have domesticated the wild Mickey.”

“I have not! We’re just...together.” Ian can feel the blush heat his skin and he stares down at his coffee. “Do you think this means we’re living together?”

“No! Fuck.” Mandy waves both of her hands at him. “Don’t even mention that. You’ll send him running for the hills. Your dick must be fucking awesome if you’ve got him completely unaware that you’re even close to co-habitating.”

“Could you please stop making it sound like I’m making him do this against his will? Please?”

“Shit. Sorry.” Mandy pops the lid off her coffee and takes a drink.”I just never thought I’d see the day, you know? See him happy. See him with someone he likes and trusts and wants to be with. He never let himself do that before. It’s weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird?”

“Good weird.” She smiles and Ian exhales slowly. “So you’re there every night?”

“Yeah.”

“Does he have a key to your place?”

“No. Why? Should I give him one? We tend to stay at his place since my family has a tendency to just drop by. I mean, I can. Give him one. I have a spare. Oh, shit. Is he upset that I haven’t given him one?”

“Whoa, dude. This isn’t some tit for tat thing. And not just because you’re not into tits.” She kicks his foot. “So are you ever at home?”

“Not really. I mean, work and school. And then on our days off we’re usually together. And at night...”

Mandy rolls her eyes skyward. “You two are such fucking idiots.”

Ian frowns. “Hey!”

“Mickey works two jobs so he can afford that place, right? And you’re shaking your ass for a living so you can afford yours, right?” She waits, looking at Ian expectantly and he shakes his head. “Have you, and this is a big one, but have you thought about maybe living together?”

“With Mickey?”

“Are you seriously asking that question? Of course with fucking Mickey, dumbass.” Mandy slumps back in her seat and laughs. “Who else would I be talking about?”

“He just gave me a key. I don’t think that living together is something that...I mean it was two weeks ago. That’s all. That’s how long I’ve had a key.”

“Do you have clothes at his place?”

“Y-yes.”

“Meds?” Ian shrugs, not sure where she’s going with this. Not exactly trusting it. “Shower supplies? Your favorite foods? Sex toys? A drawer?”

“A drawer of sex toys?” Ian feels another blush crash over his neck and face like a wave. “We...I mean...”

“God, no!” Mandy gags again, even more dramatically. “Oh, god. Don’t...ew.” 

She shudders and Ian rolls his eyes. “You’re a bigger drama queen than your brother.”

Mandy flips him off and laughs. “Look, you’re living together now. Neither of you seem to know it yet, but you are. And I’ll prove it.”

“You’re going to prove that Mickey and I live together?” Ian laughs. “Seriously? That’s a thing you’re going to do?”

“Well, you’re going to prove it and I’m going to take all the credit.” She picks up one of the napkins from the table and digs a pen out of her purse. “Mickey has no prized possessions, right? Nothing that imprints his personality on his place except his books, right?”

Ian nods, grinning wickedly. “And a drawer full of sex toys.”

“I’m so kicking your ass. I’ll have you know that the thought of my brother even _having_ sex is kind of traumatizing, so the thought of him having anything other than...well, I can’t even bring missionary position into this, can I?”

“We do it that way,” Ian says with a shrug.

Mandy takes a large swallow of her coffee and rubs her forehead. “You’re paying for my therapy, I hope you know.”

“You’re the one who brought up sex toys.” Ian crosses his arms over his chest as he leans back in his chair, looking at her and daring her to argue.

Mandy sighs after inhaling deeply and holding it for a moment. “Can we move on to my plan?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Go ahead. Sorry.”

“You’re not fucking sorry.” She smirks at him and kicks his foot again. “So it’s like a long con, okay? You’re gonna have to work for this a little. No grand fucking gestures or anything. Shit like that scares him off. Hell, little shit usually scares him off, but we’re going to give him the benefit of the doubt here.”

“Mandy?” She looks up from the napkin where she’s about to outline her plan. Ian swallows and frowns at his hands before meeting her gaze again. “I don’t want to do anything that’s going to upset him. Upset the balance. I don’t want to lose him.”

“I’m not asking you to chain yourself to him or anything, Ian. Just simple little things. Not bad. I promise. I wouldn’t hurt Mickey and I would let you hurt Mickey.” She reaches across the table and takes his hand, holding on tight. “And I wouldn’t let you get hurt. I mean, I can’t control what you dumbasses do to each other on your own, but if you listen to _me_ , well, nothing can go wrong.”

“Never say that.”

Mandy tilts her head, sighs, and nods. “Right. Sorry.”

**

“Ian! Have you seen my razor?”

“It’s charging!” 

Mickey comes out of the bathroom, hair tousled in every direction half-dried. The towel is low on his hips and it takes everything he has to not climb back in bed with Ian. Ian’s stretched out on the bed, sheet barely covering his half-hard cock, his fingers splayed across his chest. “Did you use my goddamned razor?”

“Yes. I wanted my legs to be silky-smooth. No, I didn’t use your fucking razor. You left it out yesterday, so I plugged it in.”

“Don’t touch your legs. I like ‘em the way they are.” Mickey goes back into the bathroom to pretend he has some semblance of control. Just because Ian looks good and hot and lazy and fucking delectable doesn’t mean that Mickey... 

Shit.

Mickey goes back into the bedroom and climbs on the bed, straddling Ian. He grabs Ian’s wrists and pins them to the pillows above Ian’s head. Ian raises both eyebrows. “Did you need something?”

“I’m not sure how this you having a key thing is working out.” Mickey says it with a smile, but that doesn’t stop Ian’s face from falling. Mickey leans in and kisses him slowly, tongue fucking in and tasting every inch of Ian’s mouth. When he pulls back, his voice is breathless. “Because you’re distracting as hell.”

Ian huffs a laugh, though there’s an edge to it. “I see. _I’m_ the problem because you’re the one with no self control.”

“You’re not a problem.” Mickey kisses him again, eyes closed so every sensation is through touch. The hard beat of Ian’s pulse against his hands, the hot breath on his skin, the warm press of flesh. “And I was teasing. It was kind of shitty. I’m sorry.”

“You can make it up to me with sexual favors.”

Mickey frowns and cocks an eyebrow. “And how is that different from our regular lifestyle?”

Ian breaks Mickey’s hold on his wrists and grabs Mickey’s instead, flipping them over and pinning Mickey to the bed. “More sexual favors.”

“There are only 24 hours in a day, dude. And I’ve only got one mouth and one asshole. The toys can only take so much wear and tear.” He grins at Ian’s look and goes for the kill. “And, well, let’s be honest. Your recovery period is getting...well, longer.”

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that one, Milkovich.” Ian twists Mickey’s arms, pulling them from over his head to by his sides. Ian leans in and bites Mickey’s lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. Mickey’s hips rock up and Ian grinds down against him. “Get you all fucking worked up and leave you high and dry.”

“What’d you say before? Hurts you just as much as it hurts me.” Mickey’s voice is breathless. “Blue balls are a two way street here.”

“Ya think?” Ian grins wickedly and tugs the sheet away. Mickey groans, because Ian naked is fucking art. Ian naked and hard, his cock jutting away from his body, long and thick and flushed is like the best kind of torture. “Bet I can prove you wrong.” 

“Y-yeah?” Mickey rocks his hips up again, cock sliding along the crack of Ian’s ass. “How’s that?”

Ian shifts slightly, leaning back so his knees aren’t buried into the mattress. He moves Mickey’s hands and pins them beneath his knees as he rocks back down. Ian grins down at him and Mickey’s heart races. There’s a really good fucking chance that Ian Gallagher is going to be the death of him. 

“You sure you want to know?” Ian’s voice is a low tease and Mickey struggles slightly, but Ian’s got him trapped. 

“Not gonna get the best of me.”

“Liar,” Ian says with a grin. He bites his lower lip as he looks down at Mickey, rolling his hips so that Mickey’s dick is snug in the crack of his ass. Mickey’s eyes roll back as Ian’s ass clenches around him. “Fuck, you feel good, Mick.”

Mickey’s breath huffs out of him shakily. “Ian...”

Ian stays flexed around him, holding Mickey’s cock against him. Watching Mickey with hot eyes, Ian trails his fingers up his own thighs. Mickey watches them avidly, tracing the fingers and freckles, unable to look away. Ian’s touch slides higher, over his hip bones and across the flat plane of skin – pale and freckled skin – that leads to his dick. Mickey’s brain catches up with his eyes and he groans as Ian’s fingers slide through the dark red hair at the base of his dick.

“O-oh, fuck.”

“Nope,” Ian whispers. He teases his fingers up his shaft to the head, tracing the ridge in a slow circle before sliding his finger across the slit. He holds it out toward Mickey who opens his mouth, tongue darting out. Mickey groans when Ian shakes his head, sucking his finger into his own mouth. “Teaching you a lesson.”

“S-said I was sorry.”

“Not about that. Teaching you a lesson all about my recovery period. Because it’s going to take me _ages_ to recover from what I’m about to do.”

Mickey groans again, thumping his head back on his pillow. “This is against the constitution. Cruel and unusual punishment.” 

Ian laughs softly and runs his fingers down to the base of his cock again. “I haven’t even started.”

“So don’t. Don’t and I’ll let you off easy. No need to get lawyers inv...oh shit, Ian.”

Ian wraps his hand around his cock and starts stroking, eyes half closed as he watches Mickey watch his hand. His long fingers in a tight fist around all nine inches, sliding from base to tip slowly. Mickey shivers beneath him, trying to free his hands.

“No,” Ian purrs. “You have to watch.” 

Mickey can’t help the whimper that comes from low in his throat as he watches Ian move. He grinds down against Mickey’s dick after each thrust up into his hand. It’s like fucking torture, and Mickey loves it. Loves the hard press of Ian’s body, loves the look on Ian’s face as he gets lost in his movements. His hand speeds up, jerking himself in earnest. He’s not teasing Mickey anymore – at least not intentionally.

Ian’s thighs tense around him and he seats himself back on Mickey’s cock. Mickey groans at the feel, the angle. “J-jesus.”

Ian moans low and hot and then he’s coming. His mouth is open and he’s not breathing as his come splatters on Mickey’s stomach and the base of his rib cage. Mickey’s on the edge, so close. It would be so easy for Ian to shift back, to take Mickey inside him. Mickey wants his hands, wants to guide Ian onto him.

“C’mon, Ian. Please.”

“Nope.” His voice is just a whisper of breath and he pulls away. Mickey reaches for him, but Ian grabs his wrists again and pins them. He’s careful to keep from touching Mickey as he leans in, tongue moving over Mickey’s skin as he licks up his come. Mickey’s head falls back as Ian’s tongue swipes against his skin. “Mm. Gotta watch, Mick. No fun if you don’t watch.”

“If you want...fuck, if you want me to have blue balls...” He has to catch his breath as Ian curls his tongue and Mickey can see the white pool of come before it disappears into Ian’s mouth. “C-can’t watch.”

Ian licks a long swipe from Mickey’s navel to his chest, tongue laving come over Mickey’s nipple before sucking on it. Mickey groans roughly, the sound turning into a whimper as Ian raises up, Mickey’s cock slipping free. “Don’t worry, Mick. Gonna take care of you.” Ian eases back down and rocks back and forth, Mickey’s dick rubbing against Ian’s balls, his cock which is already more than half hard again. “Always take care of you.”

Mickey thrusts up as Ian grinds down. Ian shifts back slightly so they’re still rubbing against each other but so that Ian can fit his mouth to Mickey’s. It’s a hot, biting kiss for both of them. It’s devouring and desperate like they’ve been away from each other for days, weeks, months. Mickey gets his hands free and wraps one arm around Ian’s waist and the other over his shoulder so he can cup the back of Ian’s head. 

It gives him leverage to thrust harder, to rut against the roll of Ian’s hips. Ian lets him have control of their pace and their kiss. Mickey breaks them apart to breathe and then Ian’s mouth is on his throat, tongue flicking against the stubble on his jaw. “C’mon, Mick. Want you to come for me.” He mouths hotly at Mickey’s throat, teeth scraping occasionally. “Feel you come between us. Feel your come on my dick.”

There’s a low whine in Mickey’s throat that he can’t quite help and then he’s coming. His hips jerk and Ian tightens his knees against him to keep settled on top of him. Ian’s weight is too much pressure, but Mickey arches into it anyway, needing it. 

When Ian finally pulls away with a last hard bite at Mickey’s neck, he’s grinning widely. He trails his fingers through Mickey’s come and wraps them around his cock again, hard and thick. “As long as you’re involved, my recovery period is just fucking fine.”

“There is absolutely no fucking way I can have lunch with your family now. Facing your siblings and thinking of you like this. Like that. That’s absolutely not cool. Supposed to be hungry for Fiona’s cooking, not your cock.”

“You’re always hungry for that.”

Mickey’s laugh is mostly air. “True. Very true. Your cock is my favorite.”

Ian pokes him in the belly button and Mickey squirms. “Your only.”

Mickey rubs his hands up Ian’s thighs. “I need another shower.”

“Me too.” He reaches out and rubs Mickey’s jaw. “But don’t shave. Want to feel that between my thighs tonight.”

Mickey groans as Ian climbs off of him. His stomach is slick with come, drying in flakes, but he still runs a finger through it and sucks it into his mouth. His grin is definitely going to be the death of Mickey. “Two great tastes that taste great together.”

“You’re a fucking weirdo. You want a beer?”

“Can share one.” 

Mickey gets up, his legs a bit rubbery as he walks to the kitchen. He grabs a beer out of the refrigerator and heads back to the bedroom, stopping on his way. He glances at his bookcases and frowns. “Hey, Ian? Can you c’mere?”

Ian comes to the doorway and leans against the jamb. “Yeah?”

“There are...things. On my bookcases.”

“Most people call them books.”

Mickey glances at him and notices the tension in his body. “Other things. Pictures. A...thing.”

“Baseball. From little league. Most improved.”

“Your stuff.” Mickey’s frown deepens as he processes the information. “Is here.”

“Yeah.” The tension is ramped up and Ian seems to be looking at everything but Mickey and the bookcases.

“Not next door.”

“No.”

“And it’s been here...”

“About two weeks.”

“Huh.” Mickey touches the frame of one of the pictures and heads toward Ian. Ian doesn’t look _scared_ , but he looks worried. He’s looking at Mickey like he’s a bomb that might go off. Which kind of makes Mickey feel like shit. He stops in front of him and holds up a finger. “Two things.”

“Y-yeah?”

“One – I have a year left of a two year lease. Two – all your shit ain’t gonna fit in here.” Mickey keeps eye contact, almost daring Ian to look away. Ian’s eyes dampen and Mickey shakes his head. “Oh, no. No no no. Three things. Three – no crying. No fucking...Ian. Shit.” Mickey reaches up and brushes one of Ian’s tears away. “These better be fucking happy tears and not sad ones because you’re going to have to get rid of shit.”

“I have a month left. On my lease.” Ian sniffs and then swallows. “You mean it?”

“How often do I say shit I don’t mean?” Mickey keeps his thumb on Ian’s cheek. “Don’t answer that.” He leans in and kisses Ian softly. “Can I be the one to tell Lip? Please?”

“No talking about Lip while we’re naked.” Ian laughs and holds both sides of Mickey’s head and kisses him hard. “I really fucking love you.”

“Well, you’d better, because I ain’t giving up the bed.” Mickey smiles, and he imagines it’s big enough to rival Ian’s. “You’re doing the grocery shopping.”

“You’re lugging the shit upstairs.”

“You’re cleaning the bathroom.”

“You’re getting tied to the bed tonight.”

Mickey opens his mouth to say something and stops, tilts his head and sticks out his lower lip. “Yeah, okay. You win.”

**

“Quit putting stuff on my fucking bookcases!”

“I don’t have any other place to put it.” Ian shouts from the kitchen. “You took up all the wall space, so I can’t even put up shelves.”

“Why do you need fifty thousand fucking pictures of your family? Don’t we see them enough?”

Ian moves to the doorway and smirks at Mickey. “There’s a picture of Mandy there too.”

“That doesn’t help your case.” Mickey frowns at one of the pictures. “Is that us?” Ian can’t help but grin at the tone of Mickey’s voice. It’s somewhere between pissed off and awed. “How the fuck do you have a picture of us?”

“Camera.”

Mickey flips him off. “Are you working tonight?”

“Depends. If I am, are you going to put all my shit in boxes and pretend you don’t know what happened to it? Because it’s not really us living together if it’s just all your shit.”

“Bookcases, Ian. For _books_.”

“You have too many books. Do you really need three copies of Lord of the Rings?”

“One is fucking annotated, bitch.”

“I...don’t even know what that means, but I’m happy for you.” He comes over and kisses the tip of Mickey’s nose. “What’s the third one? In Elvish?”

Mickey blushes. “Fuck you.”

“Oh my _god_. It _is_?” Ian can’t help laughing. Mickey shoves him, but all that does is make Ian laugh harder. Mickey stalks over to the couch and grabs a pillow, throwing it at Ian’s head. “How do you say ‘you’re such a fucking dork’ in Elvish?”

“Like this,” Mickey snaps as he flips Ian off with both middle fingers. 

“No, that’s English. I speak that.” Ian grabs the pillow Mickey threw and holds it up to throw back at him. “You looking for a fight?”

“Oh, bring it.” 

Ian throws the pillow hard at Mickey then rushes into the bedroom. Mickey follows him, grabbing his pillow before Ian can take both of them as ammunition. Ian’s still laughing, and Mickey’s almost smiling, which is practically the same thing. Even using pillows, neither of them hits softly, though it doesn’t actually hurt.

Ian can barely breathe by the time Mickey slaps him across the face with a pillow, a few feathers puffing out of it into the air. He falls back on the bed dramatically, one hand pressed to his forehead. “What’s Elvish for ‘you should suck my cock’?”

“I can tell you what’s Elvish for ‘in your fucking dreams’.” Mickey sits on the edge of the bed, his hand resting idly on Ian’s stomach. He leans in and kisses Ian slowly. They’re both breathing a little raggedly, and the warm puffs of air dance against Ian’s face as Mickey nuzzles their noses together. “And for the record, that was more sign language than English.”

Ian reaches up and runs his fingers through Mickey’s hair. “Do the pictures really bother you?”

“No.” Mickey turns his head and kisses Ian’s wrist. “Just no siblings in the bedroom. That’s creepy. I don’t need your family staring at me while I take your cock up the ass.”

“That is...the least sexy thing you’ve ever said. Also I now need bleach for my brain.” Ian tugs Mickey down and kisses his forehead. “I need to get ready for work. You working tonight?”

“Nah. Taking the night off. Thinking about cutting back to just weekends now since we’re sharing the rent. Thought we’d talk about it.”

“You’d be here every night when I got home.” Ian can’t help smiling like a loon at the thought. 

“I usually am anyway. I’ll just have less cash on me.” Mickey shrugs. “It’s not a plan or set in stone or some shit. Just a thought I had.”

“I like it. It’s a good thought. We can hash out the finances and stuff tomorrow?” Ian kisses Mickey hard and pushes him off of him. “Might change my mind after a night of shaking my ass to keep food on the table.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Mickey slaps Ian’s ass hard as Ian stands up. “You keep food on the table and I’ll keep your ass in sparkly gold shorts.”

“Club pays for those.” Ian grabs Mickey’s wrist and tugs him in. “Unless you’re suggesting we buy a pair for our own personal edification and enjoyment.”

“I enjoy you out of your clothes a hell of a lot better.” 

“Bullshit.” Ian kisses him then moves away. “You like the mystery.”

“I like your dick,” Mickey calls after him. “And I like what it does when it’s naked.”

“Finish putting the groceries away, sweetheart,” Ian replies, his voice pitched high. “I’ll be busy bringing home the bacon.”

“Shakin’ the bacon.” Mickey says as he walks past Ian into the kitchen. 

Ian cracks up. “ _Really_?”

“Slab of meat, right?” Mickey looks around the corner at Ian, he’s smiling widely, his tongue sticking out between his teeth. “Get going. Try not to get your hot ass picked up by some fairy queen, all right? Remember they can’t handle you. Hearts might give out if you took that dick out of your pants. You don’t want to have to explain that to the cops and EMTs again.”

“ _One time_.” Ian grabs his coat and tugs it on. “I gotta go to work.”

“I know.” Mickey’s smile fades slightly, less bright and more amused, more fond. “I’ll be here when you get home.”

“Home. I like that.” Ian walks over and kisses Mickey one more time. “See you later.” He pulls away reluctantly and leaves the apartment, jogging down the stairs to burn off some of the energy that’s built up underneath his skin. It’s not mania, but it’s a kind of euphoria. Mandy told him he was probably just happy and it was such an uncommon thing he didn’t recognize it.

She might be right.

He’s pretty sure she is after another couple of weeks. He and Mickey get along most of the time, argue some of the time, and fuck pretty much all of the time. Mickey makes sure Ian takes his pills, though it’s normally him putting them out next to Ian’s breakfast without saying a word. Ian appreciates it, likes that Mickey trusts him to do it. 

Likes that Mickey’s not working all the time, so now he’s home every night when Ian gets home. That he’s making breakfast when Ian gets up to see him go to work before crashing again. Mostly likes Mickey. A lot.

“Mick?” Ian swings his backpack onto the couch and shrugs off his coat. “You home?”

“Jesus, wake the neighbors why don’t you.”

“I am the neighbors.” Ian walks over and kisses Mickey as he comes out of the kitchen. “Neighbor. Well, not anymore, but officially no one’s moved in.”

“I take it you did well on your test?” Mickey cocks an eyebrow. “I hope you did at least, because I actually bought fucking steak.”

“You bought me steak?”

“No. I’m making you chicken nuggets. I bought _me_ steak.” Mickey shoves Ian playfully. “Yeah, dumbass. It’s your big final. Knew you’d do great, and we’d need to celebrate.”

Ian moves closer and catches Mickey’s hips, pulling him in close so that Mickey’s standing between Ian’s spread legs. “You cooking the steaks yet?”

“No.” Mickey grins. “Why?”

“Well...I was thinking there’s another way we could celebrate.”

“I think it’s a little late to invite the family over. Plus I didn’t get enough for everyone...”

Ian pulls Mickey even closer and Mickey fights back a laugh. “You know that’s not what I mean. In fact, I’m gonna guess you know exactly what I mean.” Ian leans in and licks from Mickey’s t-shirt collar to the base of his jaw. “Don’t you?”

“Well, the impression I get is that you want me to congratulate you, so you’re asking me to offer myself up to make you feel good.”

“No.” Ian nips at Mickey’s jaw then his earlobe. “I want to show you how thankful I am for all your help and support. Couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Yes you could have.”

“Maybe,” Ian shrugs and flicks his tongue against Mickey’s lips. “But it was more fun with you.” He pulls back, grinning at Mickey’s obvious erection. “So fucking easy.”

“Easy for you.”

“One of my favorite things about you.” Ian strips off his shirt and tosses it aside. “You want to look at me, Mick?” He undoes his jeans and wriggles them down, kicking off his shoes so he can take them off. “You like that, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes. Gorgeous.”

Ian’s hands graze Mickey’s hips, fingers gliding down his thighs. Mickey shivers, his breath doing the same as he exhales. “So are you. Love looking at you. Love every inch of you.” His fingers move to Mickey’s cock, running down the curved bulge in Mickey’s jeans. “These are some of my favorite inches though.”

Mickey chokes a laugh. “You’re a fucking dork.”

“Mm.” Ian replaces his fingers with his mouth, breathing hotly against the denim. Mickey’s head falls back and Ian bites his jeans, scraping his teeth along Mickey’s fly. Mickey moans and Ian’s cock jerks. He doesn’t think there’s anything he loves more than the sound of Mickey falling apart. 

He opens Mickey’s pants finally, though he waits until Mickey’s breath his hitching, until he sounds like he’s nearing the edge. He has lots of practice stripping Mickey and knows the best ways to make it last. Mickey’s hips roll forward as Ian slides the zipper down. “F-fuck.”

“So fucking easy for me.” Ian laughs against Mickey’s dick, feeling it jerk in his boxers. He reaches up and slides his fingers beneath Mickey’s waistband and starts to tug it over his dick, pulling boxers and jeans down all at once when there’s a loud crash, the lights go out, and the fire alarm goes off.

“Shit.” Mickey tugs Ian to his feet and toward the door. “Shit.”

“Mickey...” 

Mickey opens the door and there’s an actual fire visible through the window at the end of the hall, the building across from them turning red and orange. “Shit. C’mon.”

“I’m just...”

Mickey ignores him and jerks him toward the stairs, joining the throng of other residents rushing down to the ground floor and outside.

**

There are people muttering nearby, talking about lightning strikes and freak thunderstorms. Ian moves beside him and Mickey turns to him. Rain is pounding down on them and the firetrucks are rolling up, sirens blaring. 

“This isn’t funny. I hope you know that.” 

Mickey looks Ian over and bites his lip. “Cosmic retribution, maybe.”

“Fuck you.” Ian wraps his arms around himself and shivers. Mickey’s eyes run over him taking in his damp skin and hard nipples. “It wasn’t fucking _winter_ when it happened to you.”

“No. That’s true.” Mickey moves closer to him and wraps his arm around Ian’s waist, tugging him against him. “Sadly, my boyfriend was in the middle of seducing me, so I don’t have a jacket or anything.” He breathes against Ian’s neck and Ian shivers again, but it’s different. “We could move closer to the fire.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve discussed how you feel about my asshole numerous times.” Mickey wraps his other arm around him, holding Ian against his chest. Ian glances around and see if any of their neighbors are watching, but Mickey isn’t interested in looking anywhere but at Ian. “Guess it’s a good thing it happened when it did and not about ten minutes later.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, because then _I_ would have been naked, you might have been naked, and the odds of one of us having the keys to the apartment would be...oh, fuck.”

“You don’t have the keys to the apartment?”

Mickey laughs and rests his forehead against Ian’s chest. “Maybe 7A will take us in.”

“I’m not interested in 7A. I want these stupid alarms to stop and the stupid fire to be out and I want to be in our bed. Dry.” Ian shivers again. Mickey kisses Ian’s chest between his nipples. “I can’t believe you don’t have the keys.”

“Ian.” Mickey digs a set of keys out of his pocket and dangles them in front of Ian. “That’s the whole point of all of this, right? We take care of each other?”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to be a dick first.”

Mickey tugs Ian down so they’re looking eye to eye. As annoyed as he is by the interruption, he can’t help but be a little grateful to fire alarms for putting him in this place, right here and right now. He kisses Ian softly, slowly. “I love you.”

Ian sighs and pokes Mickey in the side. “I love you too. But that doesn’t mean you’re not a dick.” 

“Well, given that you pursued me after how I acted toward you the first time we met, pretty sure that you like dicks.”

Ian rolls his eyes and scoffs. “That wasn’t even funny.”

Mickey grins. “It was a little funny.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“A teeny bit funny?” His grin gets wider as he can see Ian fighting his own smile. “A teensy weensy bit funny?”

“No.”

“A smidge? An iota?”

“No.” Ian bites his lower lip and Mickey knows he’s almost got him. He climbs his fingers up Ian’s spine. “And itsy bitsy bit?”

Ian laughs finally and shoves Mickey away, tugging him back in almost immediately. “You’re making that horrible joke up to me. Like fucking you over the couch, begging, desperate making it up to me.”

“Are you trying to encourage or discourage jokes with that?”

“Just shut up.” Ian kisses him hard and Mickey smiles against his mouth, letting his hands slide down Ian’s back to cup his ass. “And quit that.”

“You get groped in public for a living.” Mickey squeezes and Ian rolls his hips forward on instinct. “But I ain’t putting any money in your shorts.”

“I’ll settle for your hand. _Later_ ,” Ian warns him. He sighs softly and kisses the tip of Mickey’s nose. “I love you. And I love the way you look in those wet clothes.”

“Yeah?” Mickey rests his head on Ian’s shoulder, eyes closed. “It’s mutual.”


End file.
